


Where ever you go I'll follow

by Bilesobrein



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Hurt Stiles, M/M, Sad Derek, Stiles Dies, Teen Wolf, stiles has cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8549812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bilesobrein/pseuds/Bilesobrein
Summary: Stiles meets Derek at a coffe shop and spills coffe on him..





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like stories about cancer don't read

As I glanced up from cleaning the messy, coffee stained counter, a dark shadow caught my attention out of my honey, caramel eye. With my eyes wide and perfectly even jaw dropped, a 6 foot man stood there, wearing a blue and orange striped shirt that looked a few sizes too small. His lips were in a strict, dull line and his arms crossed in a cautious way. Walking up to the counter, with his emotionless, beautiful face, he says to me, “I’ll have a size grande with black coffee.” “What’s your name?” I ask. “Derek,” he replies with his deep and threatening voice, yet there was still a bit of warmth in it. As he strolled away, finding a seat for himself, I smiled slightly, thinking of his name. “Derek, your coffee's ready.” He walks towards me. I took the coffee and handed it to him. Thinking he already grabbed it, I let go. The cup slowly dropped and splattered all over his clean, fresh striped shirt. I could hear Derek mumbling curses under his breath as he sighs. “Oh my gosh, Derek! I’m so sorry! Here, you can borrow my shirt.” I stripped my shirt off and handed it to him, luckily it was only us, when Derek laughed, “For a skinny, defenseless looking guy, you have a nice looking set of packs.” I blushed, saying jokingly as he took his shirt off, “Yeah. Well, for a muscular looking guy, you look pretty weak.” Derek smiled slightly. “Oh, big ol’ sour man can smile. Didn't know that was possible.” Derek grunted while smiling profoundly. “What’s your name?” “Oh me? Stiles Stilinski. Want to go get some coffee sometime?” “I came here to get coffee, until someone spilled it on me.” I smiled and blushed, quietly saying, “Sorry.” Derek smiled back, “No worries. It's fine. This shirt was built for someone scrawnier than me, someone like you.” I giggled, “Yeah, that's true.” Derek rubbed the back of his head, looking like he was about to say something uncomfortable, “So, do you want to go out with me?” I stared at Derek in shock. “Go out with you?” Derek's eyes dropped down, sadly when I asked. “Well, yeah. I shouldn’t of assumed you were something other than straight, sorry. It’s fine if you don’t want to.” I looked at him in shock, “No! No! I'd love to! And come on! I’m totally straight.” Derek smiled “All right. Tonight at 8:00 p.m?” “Duh, unless you want to 3:00 a.m. in the morning when everyone’s asleep,” I joked. “This is why I like you,” Derek smirked and walked away. “Okay. See you big buddy.”  
It has almost been eight months, since I first started dating Derek Hale and everything was perfect, until something grew inside of me. I haven’t heard from him since two months. I have never mentioned it to him, Derek, because I didn’t want him to feel upset or feel like it was his fault, so I left without speaking of it to anyone. After all the chemo, all the pills, and all the throw up, I decided no one needed to know I was slowly dying. I knew I had to accept it. I knew everyone else had to accept it, too. But I couldn’t, knowing they would all be upset. I wanted their last memories of me fully alive, happy, and healthy. I had received many calls, but all went to my voicemail. I have stayed in motels most of the time because I didn’t have a job or the money for an apartment. Most of the time, I had barely any money to keep me alive. I could hardly afford food, not that it mattered, because I would throw up anyways. Instead of being a stable 5’11 man, I became all bones and no muscle. I started to wear hats everyday because my hair would start falling. One day, on the streets of Los Angeles, I saw someone who looked exactly like Derek. He locked eyes with me and said, “Why haven’t you answered any of my phone calls? I’ve been worried sick about you. If you wanted it to be over, you could have told me and Stilinski, what’s with the hat?” he laughed. I tried to smile, but it hurt me. I walked away, pretending I didn’t notice him. He ran up to me and yelled, “What is wrong with you? Stop leaving me like that!” Derek flicked my cap away in anger. I started breaking down and fell on the side of the street, crying. Derek’s face was in shock. “Stiles, what the hell?” Derek's kneeled down and wiped the tears away from my face. He tightly hugged me, until I was crying so much, his shirt was all wet. He jokingly said, “Hey, looks like it’s you who ruined my shirt again.” I shyly smiled and hugged him even tighter, until I started breaking down again. He grabbed me by my face and brought his lips to mine. “Derek, I wish I was dead. I wish I never existed. I’m just no one. I was always no one.” “Stiles, just listen to me. You’re not no one. You’re someone. Stiles, you’re my boyfriend and I need you. Stiles, you’re my brother.” “Derek what are we going to do about this?” I sobbed, looking straight into his lovely, bright blue eyes. “I'll do something Stiles, we'll do something.” I gave Derek a small smile “Okay,” I said. “Okay.” he replied.  
It has been one year and things have gotten better for me. Derek was extremely optimistic, but he had a reason to be hopeful though, because yesterday, he received a phone call saying they found a possible cure. Although it doesn’t work for everyone, Derek agreed to the offer. I went every week to get checked up and they gave me a bottle of pills. “Mr. Stilinski?” The doctor was waiting outside the door, holding a clipboard writing down symptoms. I stood up and walked over to him as he lead me into a colorful, purple room, showing me the outcome of the tests. “I'm afraid you are one of the many few that the cure doesn't work for them.” The doctor looked at me with pity, “I'm sorry,” he said with a depressed face, leaving me to recall what he said. I stared emotionless as Derek started crying. “Babe, it’s okay. I still have a chance to live.” I escorted me and Derek out the door and into the car. I still believed in myself and I wasn’t going to lose. “Sour man, please stop crying. It hurts to see you like this. Believe in me. I can do this. I’m not going to leave you like this. I love you.” “I love you, too,” he says, hugging me.  
Stiles passed away the day after, when his stage 3 brain cancer won the battle. Although Derek never got over his boyfriend’s death, he realized he would dedicate his life to help others. Derek decided to create the Break Brain Cancer Foundation to support other people with brain cancer. Sometimes at night, Derek would shut himself in his room and shed all his tears, until his pillow was as wet as fish. One day, Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He kneeled by Stilinski’s grave, which said, “R.I.P. Stiles Stilinski 1991-2016. He was always fighting, until the fight took him.” Derek said his last “I love you,” until he laid still next to Stiles Stilinski’s grave.


End file.
